


Tasty Proposition

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic [86]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sex Shop, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:16:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7325455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ Comment Fic for AU’s prompt: <i>Any, any slash couple, one of them works in an adult 'space' (bookstore, leather bar, etc)</i></p><p>In which Danny stumbles across a restaurant in a very unlikely location, and finds an even unlikelier man there that just might make Hawaii more interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tasty Proposition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squidgie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgie/gifts), [Draycevixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/gifts).



There was something incongruous about a sex shop in paradise, not that Danny personally felt that Hawaii was paradise. Far from it, actually. And he knew better than anyone that even the most beautiful city had a seedy side. Waikiki had a whole stretch of Launa’ana Avenue dedicated to strip clubs, sex clubs, and adult stores like the one he and Meka were walking into.

“Tasty Proposition?” Danny asked. “What the hell kind of name is that?”

“Just roll with it, brah.” 

Meka made his way to the register at the back of the store and Danny trailed along behind, trying not to look at the displays of dildos, ball gags and padded handcuffs. It wasn’t that he was a prude or anything, but he’d never really felt the need to supplement his sex life with props and toys. Not that he had much of a sex life to speak of these days.

“Detective,” said the guy behind the counter. He was a young guy, dressed surfer-casual and draped over the counter with his eyes half closed. It didn’t escape Danny’s notice that Meka hadn’t flashed his badge.

“I need to talk to Tim,” Danny’s partner said. “He in today?”

“Upstairs.” The kid gestured vaguely and went back to drooping.

“You a regular?” Danny nudged Meka with his shoulder. “Not that I’m judging or anything. Whatever kinky shit you and Amy are involved in is your business.”

“As long as you’re not judging,” Meka replied. It was almost impossible to wind the guy up, he was so laid back. It didn’t stop Danny from trying.

They walked down an aisle full of sexy attire for men and women. Danny would never understand the fascination with mesh shirts, or how anyone could stand wearing a thong; a piece of floss tucked between his ass cheeks just seemed like it would be irritating. 

At the end of the aisle was a staircase going up. On the wall was a little sign that said ‘Restaurant.’

“Are you kidding me? A restaurant? Who comes to have lunch at a sex shop?”

“Waikiki’s best-kept secret.” Meka turned his head and winked at Danny. “Too bad we’re not here to eat.”

Danny didn’t know quite what he was expecting from an eatery that shared space with bondage costumes and lube, but he was pleasantly surprised. The dining area was small but very clean, decorated in a minimalist fashion with abstract palm trees in neutral colors. None of the sexual aids available in the store below were visible in the restaurant.

The place was mostly empty, not surprising given how early in the day it was. There was one guy sitting at the counter that ran along the back wall, and someone else could be heard banging around in what was presumably the kitchen area.

Danny followed Meka’s lead, since he was clearly familiar with the place. They approached the guy at the counter, who seemed engrossed in whatever book he was reading. Danny knew better, could tell from the tension in his shoulders that the guy knew they were there. He wasn’t at all surprised when Meka greeted him while they were still in the middle of the room; the guy’s body language practically screamed _stay back_.

“Howzit, McGarrett?”

The guy unfolded himself from the stool and turned around. He was tall and lean, dressed in a baggy pair of cargo shorts and a tight blue t-shirt; tattoos peeked out from the sleeves, delicate greenish swirls that drew the eye. Danny wasn’t the kind of guy who spent a lot of time ogling either sex, but this guy was attractive in an I-want-to-lick-you kind of way. Tanned skin, dark hair cut short, and wary eyes.

“Hanamoa. You like I cook plenny grinds or wot?”

“Hey. English, please.” Danny hated the pidgin talk the natives used, mostly because he only had a very loose grasp of it. It was just one more way to be excluded, one more reason to hate Hawaii.

The guy, McGarrett, raised an eyebrow. “Who da haole?”

Danny bristled at that. It wasn’t the first time he’d been called an outsider, and it wouldn’t be the last, but that didn’t mean he liked it. “My name is Detective Daniel Williams, and we’re here on police business, _brah_.”

“Danny. Chill.” Meka gave him a quelling look. “I need to talk to Tim.”

“Kitchen.” McGarrett gestured vaguely with one hand.

Danny made to follow but Meka waved him off. “He won’t talk if you’re with me. McGarrett, get my partner a cup of kona. Wiki wiki.”

“Da kine.”

As Meka vanished through the doors into the kitchen, McGarrett moved around behind the counter and dutifully poured a cup of coffee. He slid it to Danny, who caught it right before it slid off the counter and onto the floor.

“Real smooth,” Danny said. 

McGarrett just shrugged, and rested his elbows on the counter. “So what brings an East Coast detective out to the Islands?”

Well, wasn’t that interesting. There weren’t many islanders that could narrow down Danny’s accent that well. Usually it just marked him as a mainlander, a haole, without the need to narrow it down to one specific region. Which meant that despite the fact that he worked at a sex-store-slash-restaurant, McGarrett wasn’t a complete idiot. Or maybe Meka had told him, since they obviously knew each other.

Danny’s partner hadn’t told him anything about McGarrett, but he wasn’t an idiot either. “How does ex-military end up working at a place like this?” he countered.

McGarrett’s eyes narrowed, though his posture remained deceptively loose. “That’s a long, boring story I don’t share with strangers. What do you guys want with Tim?”

“Police business,” Danny said officiously. 

“So you don’t know either.” McGarrett smirked, and Danny was caught between wanting to punch the guy and wanting to kiss that smirk right off his face.

“I know it doesn’t concern you,” Danny shot back.

McGarrett shrugged, and changed the subject. “What’s with the tie? You into bondage?”

“What?” Danny looked down at his blue-striped tie, a gift from his daughter. “No, I’m not into bondage! What kind of question is that? I’m a professional person, and so I wear a tie.”

“No-one wears ties in Hawaii.”

“That statement is patently untrue.”

McGarrett grinned. “Patently?”

“Yes, patently. As in clearly a lie. Maybe you surfer types don’t need to wear them, but I can assure you I’m not the only person in Hawaii wearing a tie.” Danny was gearing up for a good rant on the inappropriateness of beach attire anywhere but the beach, particularly flip-flops, when there was a bang from the kitchen.

He immediately reached for his sidearm, but in the next second Meka was coming through the kitchen doors.

“Just a pot,” McGarrett said in a low voice, and when Danny glanced over he saw how tense the guy was.

“Right.” Danny holstered his weapon.

“Tim give you the stink eye?” McGarrett asked Meka.

“Tim has a lousy attitude,” Meka replied. “But I got what I need. You ready to head out, partner?”

Danny finished off the coffee, and slid the mug back to McGarrett, who caught it deftly. “I’m good.”

“Come back any time, Detective,” McGarrett said, that smirk firmly back in place. “I’ll make you something that’ll broke da mout’ plenny good.”

Danny flipped him off as he headed back down the stairs, Meka laughing right behind him.

*o*o*o*

Against his better judgement, Danny returned to Tasty Proposition on his next day off. There were some people in the store this time, mostly college kids giggling as they looked around, but also some more adult types who seemed more focused. The surfer boy at the counter still looked half-asleep, but he nodded at Danny when he walked past.

“Detective,” he said.

“Slacker,” Danny replied.

Upstairs, the restaurant was surprisingly full. The clientele seemed to be made up of a pretty good cross-section of locals: old, young, white, Hawaiian, Asian. And a huge Samoan guy that took up two stools at the counter. Danny cast around for a seat – and not at all to see if tall, dark and tattooed was there – and then one of the little two-person tables cleared out.

Amidst the dirty plates left by the former diners, there was a little stand-up that had the day’s specials listed on it. Danny was disheartened to see how many of them involved Spam. 

A young mixed-race kid who looked barely old enough to be in high school came through the kitchen doors with a tub and started cleaning off Danny’s table. Once he had all the dishes and silverware cleared away, he did a very thorough job wiping the table down.

“I think you got everything,” Danny said when the kid went in for his fourth spray-and-wipe.

“Can’t be too clean,” the kid pointed out in all seriousness, and Danny found he couldn’t argue with that.

While he was distracted by Mr. Clean, the chair opposite Danny was pulled out and McGarrett dropped himself down on it. He was wearing board shorts and a black tank top.

“Howzit, Detective? You’re looking much less professional today.”

“Off duty,” Danny said. And maybe his t-shirt was a tad too small, and maybe he knew it showed off his muscular upper body to good advantage, but he certainly hadn’t dressed that way for McGarrett.

“I like you without the tie.”

McGarrett gave him a long, lingering once-over that had Danny feeling a little hot under the collar. Okay, so maybe Danny was trolling the other guy just a little bit. Aside from that one pity fuck he’d had before he left Jersey, he’d only had the company of his own hand for longer than he cared to admit. It wasn’t a crime to be horny.

“And I’d like to eat something not made with canned meat.” 

There was that smirk again. Danny had been thinking about that smirk more than was probably healthy.

“I know just what you need,” McGarrett said. Danny was out of practice, but he thought he detected an innuendo in there. “Gimme ten minutes.”

McGarrett headed into the kitchen, and the busboy returned, this time with an iced tea that Danny hadn’t ordered. 

“Free for our friends in law enforcement,” the kid said as if he were reading the words off a card.

It was the good kind of tea, home-brewed and unsweetened. Danny squeezed the accompanying lemon into it and idly stirred it. He didn’t know what had possessed him to seek out McGarrett. Did he think he could just proposition the guy? Surely he got similar offers on a daily basis, looking the way he did. Working where he did. Still, Danny knew he was just as good-looking, even if he lacked the height and lean musculature. 

He’d just about talked himself into leaving when McGarrett returned and set a plate down in front of Danny. There was a burger on it, thick and juicy and hopefully Spam-free, accompanied by some thick-cut sweet potato fries.

“I left off the pineapple relish,” McGarrett said, resuming his seat. “Anyone wearing a tie probably doesn’t appreciate the finer points of Hawaiian cuisine.”

“Pineapple does not constitute fine dining,” Danny replied. Leaving off the pineapple had been a good choice. He didn’t mind the fruit by itself, but on the Islands they put it on every damn thing, including pizza and that was surely a crime against good taste. McGarrett was more perceptive than Danny had given him credit before.

“So? Are you going to try it or just stare at it?”

“The way you’re sitting there and staring at me? Do you do that with all your customers?” Come to think of it, why wasn’t McGarrett in the kitchen, if he was the cook? 

“Just you,” McGarrett said. “Enjoy.” 

He got up and disappeared back through the kitchen door, and Danny didn’t see him again, even though he ate really slow.

The burger was amazing.

*o*o*o*

Danny couldn’t stay away from Tasty Proposition. He started out going every other weekend, if he was off and didn’t have Grace with him. McGarrett – who had become Steve at some point in the intervening weeks – wasn’t always there, and that was disappointing. But the mysterious pot-throwing Tim, who Meka had talked to that first day, had some very loose lips; as long as Danny was a paying customer, the guy would talk about anything.

He learned that Steve was single, he’d had a medical discharge from the Navy, and he was some kind of adrenalin junkie health nut. It was more than Danny was ever able to get out of Mr. Taciturn, who liked to flirt but never offered up any personal information.

“No,” Danny said finally, interrupting Steve in the middle of another question about Grace. 

“No?”

“No, you do not get to ask me an endless series of questions when you won’t even tell me something simple, like…like your middle name.” And okay, that was lame, but it was the first thing that popped into Danny’s head.

“Why do you need to know my middle name?” Steve asked, looking confused.

“I don’t. I’m just saying, people who are friends know things about each other. And right now you know way more about me than I know about you.” Danny pointed his fork at Steve for emphasis. “So yes. I would like to know your middle name.”

For some reason that made Steve blush, which unfairly made him look even more hot, and endearing. The more time they spent together, the more Danny lusted after his new friend. Steve had been part of more than one jerk-off fantasy in recent weeks.

“I want to show you something.” Steve got up from the table and gave Danny an expectant look.

“Hello? I’m not done eating yet.”

“Marco!” Steve shouted.

The busboy poked his head out of the kitchen. “Yeah?”

“Can you box up Danny’s lunch?”

“Sure thing.”

“See?” Steve turned back to Danny. “A’ole pilikia, brah.”

Danny rolled his eyes, but he followed Steve out through a side door that led to a little hallway and a flight of stairs going up. He couldn’t bring himself to ask what else the sex shop had going on, besides the restaurant. Maybe there were sex rooms up there? Danny had seen some once, on a case. Seedy and no doubt crawling with disease, but thinking about all the people that had sex in that one room had been kind of hot. Not that he’d ever do that in a million years, because he had no desire to contract some random perv’s STDs.

The stairs didn’t lead to sex rooms. They led to the roof, which someone with a green thumb had turned into a tidy little garden.

“Fresh veggies for the restaurant,” Steve said.

“This is…not what I was expecting,” Danny admitted. “But it’s a good use of space.”

“What were you expecting?” Steve asked.

He was standing close, closer than Danny had realized. Close enough that Danny had to tip his head back just a little. Close enough that Steve’s gaze felt as heavy on him as a lead jacket.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” Steve leaned in, and his breath was warm on Danny’s face.

All the blood in Danny’s head fled south, leaving him a little light-headed. Steve was kissing-close. “Yes I do.”

“Do you really think we’re friends?”

Danny dragged his eyes from Steve’s lips to the rest of his face. “Do you think I’d come that often to a sex shop restaurant just for the food? It’s good, but it’s not _that_ good.”

“If I wanted to meet Grace, what would you say?”

“I’d say yes, but only…”

“Only?” Steve prompted.

“Only if you were interested in something long-term. I don’t sleep around. I have to set a good example.”

Steve’s grin was slow and sexy and gorgeous, but Danny only got to see it for a brief second before Steve closed the small gap between them and pressed his lips to Danny’s.

It was everything Danny had been dreaming about since the day he’d met Steve. It was heat and desire and an underlying affection that surprised him in its intensity. Danny kissed him back feverishly, hands locking onto those narrow hips and pulling Steve closer still until they were flush against each other.

Steve’s hands were everywhere, seemingly all at once. Caressing Danny’s cheek, stroking his neck, sliding into the back pockets of his jeans. Danny could hardly catch his breath, especially when he felt the hard line of Steve’s erection against his hip. It was all too easy to imagine dropping to his knees and taking Steve’s cock in his mouth.

“Stop,” he panted, pulling back. “Stop. Before I have to arrest myself for public indecency.”

“I locked the access door,” Steve murmured, nipping at Danny’s earlobe.

“We can’t,” Danny insisted. “Not here, with the…arugula, or whatever.”

Steve reached between them, cupping Danny through his jeans, and Danny let out an involuntary moan. He wanted that, wanted _Steve_. But he was a cop, and a father, and generally a responsible citizen, and he couldn’t have sex on a roof where any passing tourist helicopter could get an eyeful.

“My middle name is John,” Steve whispered in his ear. “After my dad.”

 _Fuck it_. Danny kissed Steve with renewed vigor, and he didn’t care who saw. A tasty proposition, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** This fic exists thanks to an article that draycevixen shared with me – and that I can’t find now – about a restaurant in an adult store. I started it ages ago, but it’s thanks to squidgie’s prompt that it got finished. So thanks, friends, for facilitating this fic!


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